Vindication
by AlwaysWise
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for their seventh year Hermione finds herself not only exploring her sexuality, but discovering that Malfoy's involvement during the war was far more extensive than the trio could have imagined. Post-War.
1. Chapter 1

**Vindication**

Returning to Hogwarts for their seventh year Hermione finds herself not only exploring her sexuality, but discovering that Malfoy's involvement during the war was far more extensive than the trio could have imagined. Post-War.

 **Chapter One:**

 **Draco:**

Beautiful.

Draco wasn't a stranger to beautiful women. His pureblood upbringing combined with his fathers social status had afforded him the company of many stunning witches, many of whom had been dressed in silk and diamonds. Gorgeous witches were not hard to come by when a wizard held the same social status as himself. Draco had found that when it came to money driven witches, looks mattered little; his youthful and handsome appearance simply procured him an advantage.

Affording him the opportunity to gain the attention of even the most glamorous females it had been ingrained into him since his early teens by his father that women were nothing more than pawns in a long game of chess. His teachings had frequently consisted of the objectification of women. Draco doubted his mother had ever grasped her true role in his fathers life. Lucius had been incapable of love, from what Draco had witnessed he had just been affectionate enough to ensure his mother stayed loyal and oblivious. Whilst he had yet to meet a female who was immune to his advances, Draco had also yet to meet one who had captured his attention. Marriage for financial and social gain had been his parents intention, not his own. The novelty of finding a suitable female to wed had wained quickly. Desperation from the opposite gender had rapidly lost its appeal after their lack of intelligence became apparent, as did the stunted conversation, clingy affection, and underlining motives to gain his families wealth. Mind games were no longer an appealing trait, or a necessity.

Being his fathers son had made him a desirable wizard to fuck. It made him sick to recall that many witches had been interested in him despite his foul attitude and offensive persona. He had refused to touch them, especially his fellow students.

He had not fucked a witch since long before the war. If he was being honest, it had lost its appeal.

Draco's decision to return to Hogwarts for his seventh year had been a complex choice, one he had not taken likely. His education was important to him, and it had overridden his anxiety over the lack of acceptance which would surely await him. He had been a key figure in the war, people were not likely to forget or forgive his involvement and close connection with Voldemort himself. It had not been his decision for the dark wizard to reside in his house; witches and wizards alike seemed to forget that. The Ministry certainly had.

Whilst there was no place for him at Hogwarts, the academic side of him refused to leave his education incomplete. Second in the entire school had been his most valuable achievement, one his father had been unable to influence despite his efforts. Despite his fathers disappointment, and the frequent punishments he had received as a result, the attention he had been forced to pay towards the upcoming war had frequently diverted his attention. This year perhaps he could study in peace.

The Orders investigation into his 'crimes' during the war had been an eye-opener into the inner workings of the Ministry. He had been minutes into being found guilty of his crimes, and rightfully so he couldn't help but think: he had been connected to Voldemort, the torture and death of multiple innocents…Dumbledore… It had been none other than Snape who had prevented him sharing the same future as his father. As a spy for the Ministry it had taken little convincing of his innocence, Snape having convinced Draco to provide the appropriate evidence when it came to light the true extent of his involvement during the buildup, participation, and end of the war, before all charges were dropped.

His godfather had promised secrecy, yet risked that trust in order to ensure his freedom.

Draco had leaked valuable information during the war; he had witnessed murders, killings, rapes and tortures. Voldemort had always been a sadistic monster, toying with people as if they were ants under a magnifying glass. He had betrayed his fellow Slytherins, his friends and even his own family. He cared little for his father, but his mother…even his own mother couldn't even look at him. She had chosen her husband over her child; Draco still had not come to terms with her decision. A lot had happened during the war, especially in the Manor.

Draco felt his palms sweat as he recalled one particular incident. He doubted Molly was even aware of her inability to succeed in the physical killing of his aunt Bellatrix; Molly had too much good in her to be able to murder a witch who felt nothing. Draco doubted the female Weasley even realised the minimal spell she had cast before she was on the receiving end of a curse. It hadn't been enough to kill his aunt. When he closed his eyes, Draco could picture it as clear as glass. He may have never considered her family, but the spell he had used…even he hadn't believed he was capable of inflicting such cruelty.

But as he stared at Hermione curled up in the corner of the compartment, hair piled messily on top of her head, her outfit consisting of a simple pair of jeans and baggy grey jumper, Draco found he didn't regret his participation in the war it in the slightest. When his aunt had tortured the brunette in front of him, it had taken every ounce of inner strength to hold himself back, to bide his time as not to ruin what many had planned towards. It had been mentally and physically the hardest decision he had ever been forced to make; some part of him still hated himself for it.

He had betrayed his family during the war, hid prisoners at the expense of his own risk, but watching Hermione withering in pain…

There would be no place for him at Hogwarts when it came out that his betrayal of his own House extended far deeper than anyone could have anticipated: he had manipulated them into trusting him based on his attitude, blood, and social status in order to gain secrets and leak information to the Order. Draco's lips curved sadistically as he realised Potter would soon find out just who had been leaving him the little clues to bringing down Voldemort. The boy had been dense at times, had it not been for Hermione Draco doubted Potter would have managed to make sense of any of it.

He had been forced to grow up too young, to make decisions his parents should have made for him. Now he had sacrificed everything for the Order to succeed, and yet all he had to show for it was a ink black mark tainting his arm.

He would loose the respect of every Slytherin when it came out eventually. Then he would be truly alone.

While it would be a lie to admit that the sudden solitude and avoidance would be slightly welcomed after being forced to spend so long under many watchful eyes dictating his every move; long-term, Draco did worry for his sanity.

And yet, as Draco slid open the compartment door quietly, the visible reminder of what he had helped achieve was sitting in front of his eyes; Hermione was safe. He would never admit his admiration and respect for the girl since his first year at Hogwarts, the harsh words and cruel remarks he had sent her way necessary in order to achieve the long-term goal of bringing down the dark forces. He had been aware of his fathers position long before he was recruited as Voldemorts follower, despite how hard his mother had attempted to shield him from that part of their marriage.

She had barely spoken more than a few words to him since Snape had gotten involved. He didn't resent his godfather for breaking a promise. He would openly admit he wouldn't have managed to survive in Azkaban, and he doubted he would have accepted that fate in order to save his pride.

Closing the door Draco moved towards the opposite seat, eyes dragging over Hermione's form as her eyes scanned the book in front of her. He didn't make an attempt to converse with the girl who had been tortured in his own home.

He was a coward.

Leaning his head against the glass Draco internally sighed after he took a seat, watching the scenery speed past him in a blur of greens, blues and colour. He felt old, exhausted.

What had Dumbledore been thinking when he had appointed him head-boy? He did not deserve such a position, nor had he expected to be considered for the role. The distraction would be welcomed; the disrespect he would undoubtedly face would not.

It was the realisation that Hermione had unsurprisingly been selected as Head-girl that had him audibly taking in a deep breath. They would be sharing a dorm. She must hate him.

He hated himself.

"Malfoy?"

Looking at her Draco cursed his obvious attraction towards her. She was beautiful, perhaps not traditionally or obviously so, but after having been surrounded by women who always seemed to have a motive, a intention to get something out of him, he knew Hermione was a woman - because she had grown into a beautiful young woman - who you could trust, could picture a future with.

Never had he considered a future with any of the brainless sluts he had fallen into bed with; if he was being honest he hadn't considered a future at all. It was still an unexpected surprise that he had survived the war; he hadn't expected to come out the other side breathing. Draco figured it was why the longterm consequences had never quite bothered him enough to change his mind; he didn't think he would have to deal with them. Sluts were a means to get off, to increase his reputation, to scratch an itch. Encouraging the rumours had been easy. He knew many of his House, and others, would have died to be in his position, to be wanted by so many beautiful creatures.

Draco scowled, they were welcomed to them.

"Fine, be like that."

Frowning, Draco sighed. He hadn't even said a word to Hermione and yet he had pissed her off. There was something wrong with him. Rubbing his face he sighed. He had been doing that a lot lately, he realised. Sighing.

"Sorry, I am not great company right now." That would have been an understatement. He was dreading the Great Hall, dreading seeing Blaise, Theodore and Pansy again. They had been his closest friends. He wondered whether he could still call them that. "Excuse me."

Pulling himself to his feet Draco left to splash some water on his face. What he would give for a hug from his mother right now. It had been years, long before the war had begun, since he had felt the delicate arms of his mother around his from.

 _Boys don't need hugs. It makes them pathetic. I will not have a pathetic son!_

He laughed at the irony. If only his father could see him now. A traitor. Even his mother wasn't speaking to him.

Suddenly that reminder took the humour of the situation.

God, he was pathetic.

 **_—000000000—_**

 **Hermione:**

Hermione's jaw dropped. Had Draco Malfoy just _apologised_ to her? Something must be wrong with the world, she thought, hating herself for feeling a slight twinge of guilt at her previous snappy retort. She had known what to expect, Dumbledore having been kind enough to inform her that he was planning on making Malfoy head-boy for the final year. Why she had no idea, he had been a coward during the war!

Still, he had recognised his errors in the end. Better late than never she supposed, but she also couldn't help but wonder whether it had been purely self-preservation that had kept him from revealing Harry's identity, rather than fighting for the Order from the start.

She didn't know.

Malfoy had always been an enigma. He had been cruel to her, yet unlike herself he had _never_ laid so much as a finger on her. She had seen him hold doors open for female witches, keep a close eye on the first year Slytherin's when he didn't think anyone had noticed, alongside exert a careful amount of respect towards his professors.

And yet, his attitude towards the better half of the school had been disgustingly offensive.

It was no wonder he was alone, she thought, before laughing at the irony. She was called a heroine of the war, and yet here she was, sitting in a compartment away from her friends because she couldn't be what Ron wanted from her. She cared for him, she truly did, but the way he treated her…it rubbed her the wrong way.

He pressured her for sex, frequently calling her out on her virgin status and the way she flinched away from his touch when he attempted to get intimate with her. It was instinctual, she didn't understand herself why. They had been through so much together and yet the thought of his hands on her, his callused fingers roughly grabbing for what he wanted…

Was it wrong for it to make her feel sick?

She had been aroused before, so no matter what he said she wasn't frigid. She just didn't want to rush, wanted to take it at her own pace rather than jump into bed with him and regret it later. Was that wrong of her? To want to feel safe, loved, and content before she took the next step?

Ron seemed to think so.

It had been when he had physically grabbed her, bruising her wrist, scaring her, that she had called it quits, told him that maybe a break would be the most obvious solution. He had asked her whether he could 'fuck' other girls, more willing girls, until she made up her mind.

 _Fuck him_! she thought venomously. He could fuck the whole school for all she cared!

Biting her bottom lip Hermione stared down at the open look on her lap, _Sensuality and Sexuality_ in Latin thankfully hiding the shame of her reading material. She doubted any wizards or witches at Hogwarts could understand enough of it to work out what she was reading. She would simply say it was a potions book. She had read enough of them to blag her way through the lie, and her Latin was just good enough that she could grasp the basics of the text.

It was just a shame that Harry had chosen to comfort Ron. She understood, they were best friends, brothers practically with Harry dating Ginny and staying at the Burrow more often than not. He had been put in a difficult position; it just hurt it hadn't taken him much deliberation before he admitted that he thought it would be best for everyone if he helped Ron through the heartache, effectively putting a little distance between them.

She hadn't told Harry that Ron had been the one practically forcing himself on her. She wouldn't stoop to the redheads level. Harry had made his choice; she had accepted that.

It didn't mean it didn't hurt though.

Her relationship with Ron had also made her question her sexuality. Hermione could admit to herself that the idea of being intimate with another person was a tempting one. She craved comfort, contentment, and love after the war, especially after having fallen out with her parents after restoring their memory. After they had found out what she had done, even to protect them, they had attempted to forbid her returning to Hogwarts. She had refused. They had not left on the best of terms.

Hermione hoped in time they would learn to forgive her, but after the war, a war they had not been involved in, she craved normality. She had worked hard for her grades, her position in the school hierarchy as top student. She wasn't about to give that up so she could _recover._

She had books and time for that.

Staring down at her most recent reading material she frowned, wondering if all the crap Ron had sprouted about magical couples, marriage and sex was really true. Being a muggle born forced her to be at a disadvantage.

She hated not knowing!

As if reading her thoughts Hermione snapped her head up at the soft _click_ signalling the compartment door opening, a fresh faced Malfoy gracefully sliding though before taking a seat opposite her, the collar of his burgundy shirt was slightly damp, signalling the reasoning behind his abrupt departure.

She chewed her bottom lip, glancing between Malfoy and the book with a thoughtful gaze. Could she? Would he tease her if she asked him about sex; she knew he had had a lot of it if gossip around the school was anything to go by, but she was nearly nineteen and yet had never so much as passionately kissed someone, would he laugh?

For some reason she was unaware of, she didn't think so.

He had clearly changed a lot over the war, not just mentally but physically. Long gone was the sleeked back platinum hair; instead it looked soft, soft enough that she found herself wondering if it felt as good as it looked, wanting to brush her fingers through the light strands.

She flushed, but forced herself to continue her appraisal of him.

Just like Harry and Ron he had bulked up during the war, his broad shoulders and thighs igniting a low burning heat at the pit of her stomach. Beautiful. It was impossible for her to reman objective when it was clear she found him extremely attractive, and much to her dismay, it was obvious that physically he was more her type than Ron every would be.

Ron was bulky, but he was also loud, rude, abrupt and rough with her.

Malfoy…Malfoy was the complete opposite. He had always been careful to keep a respectful distance between them despite his cruel words. He was clever, very much on her own level when it came to intelligence, not to mention graceful, well-mannered and quiet. Even as a child it had been obvious that he kept to himself unless provoked, in which case he couldn't seem to help himself but to throw himself into a fight as if he was constantly looking for one.

Yes, he was the complete opposite of Ron on every level apart from gender.

Staring at the pale Slytherin sitting in front of her, head down as his fingers occasionally flickered through the pages of what she guessed to be a book centring on potions or spells, she found herself opening her mouth before it registered in her head what she was saying.

"I'm sorry about before."

At first Hermione thought he was going to ignore her outright. She would have expected as much. His response, however, surprised her.

"It is fine. It was rude of me. I apologise."

Again, what was with him apologising? Hermione was shell-shocked. Not only was Malfoy saying sorry to her, but he was admitting his own fault, something he had never done in the previous years she had known him.

Looking down at her book she frowned. Did she dare? She wanted answers, answers she wasn't finding at the bottom of a book for once. She hadn't managed to find a wizard etiquette book on such short notice, and her impatience was increasing every hour that passed.

Was she to blame for Ron's impatience with her? It hurt her to think that she was.

 _Fuck it!_

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

He didn't elaborate. She would have pointed out his rudeness as he continued to read in front of her had he not agreed.

"It's about sex."

And yep, just as she expected that got his entire attention. Head snapping up, bright grey eyes beautifully wide, Hermione flushed a humiliating shade of read as his mouth comically dropped before he visibly got control of his emotions, face evening out before he raised a brow curiously.

"Sex?"

Hermione nodded, too embarrassed to verbally admit it again. It really showed her desperation with the situation that she was asking Malfoy, a boy who had previously referred to her as ugly, for sex advice. He was probably disgusted with her even bringing it up.

His mystified expression didn't falter. "What could you possibly want to know?"

"You mean you're actually willing to help me?" she squeaked out, hands fiddling in front of her. God, she was embarrassed.

"I will try."

Hermione tried to ignore the fact that it physically seemed to pain him to agree. At least that had been confirmed. He was disgusted at the thought of sex with her. She wondered why it hurt when it had been the same case for years. Ron had frequently told her that while she had brains, her beauty wasn't something she could brag about.

Well, here goes nothing she figured.

"Is there a specific courtship wizards and witches have to go through?" Start with something easy she thought.

Malfoy nodded, _finally_ closing his book so she had his full attention. She didn't know whether to be relieved or not at the fact she suddenly had his undivided attention. "Yes. It is considered polite for a male wizard to court a female witch he is interested in. I, however, do not see how this is relatable to sex."

He didn't?

Hermione frowned. "So there isn't some unwritten rule of the amount of weeks between being successfully courted before…uh…you know…" she stuttered off, cheeks red. Malfoy looked at her strangely.

"No. Where on earth did you read such a thing?"

Ron, she thought angrily. The lying little shit! Fuming she felt her cheeks redden for a reason other than embarrassment. He had hinted at her that his parents had expected them to have 'consummate' their relationship, that they were disappointed it hadn't been made official.

She felt sick.

"Are you ok, Hermione?"

No, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't.

"I think I've been manipulated," she found herself saying, shocked when all of a sudden Draco seemed very interested in the conversation, more so than before. She sat back, stunned at the sudden fire which seemed to burn in his eyes, his fists clenched by his sides. She hated herself that she found his strange protectiveness an appealing quality.

"Did someone…touch you without your permission?"

"What? No! No, nothing like that!" she stuttered out, resisting the urge to ask him why he seemed to care all of a sudden. She didn't want to go into what had happened with Ron. He had been rough and pushy with her, but he hadn't gone as far as to force himself on her after she had said no.

He had some respect for women at least. She figured Molly was to thank for that.

She watched him visibly relax, leaning back into the soft material of the seat. "Good. If a wizard attempts to convince you of such, get rid of him. Courtship is about mutual respect, love and companionship, not a manipulation to get into a witches panties."

Hermione didn't know whether it was the way his voice softened at the term companionship, or the way his gaze dipped slightly at the word panties, but she suddenly found herself more willing to discuss her questions with him. He didn't seem annoyed with her line of questioning. If anything, he seemed interested in what she wanted to know.

He was actually being good company, she realised. Maybe the war had changed him more than she had first thought.

"Have you ever tried courting a witch?" she asked cautiously. Was that a too personal question to ask? As soon as it had passed her lips she feared it sounded as such.

"No."

"Why not?" She knew he had admirers, and not just from Slytherin. She was aware of plenty of females from the different houses, including her own, that would gladly warm his bed. Even Ginny she knew had fantasied about the platinum blonde.

Malfoy stared at her intensely. "A number of different reasons. The war for one." He didn't elaborate, and she didn't question it further. She had a feeling it was a sensitive topic if the way he suddenly seemed to be staring out the window was anything to go by.

She frowned, thinking how strange it was to think of Malfoy as sensitive.

"Ron told me it was pathetic that I'm still a virgin!" She blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth, her face reddening in humiliation at what had just come out of her mouth. What the fuck was wrong with her? Malfoy had not needed to know that! "Oh god, I mean…"

"Really?" It was the surprise on his face that had her pausing. He seemed genuinely shocked that she hadn't been touched. "That's…I did not expect that." He chose his words carefully. Hermione was relieved.

"I'm not a slut," like your House she managed to stop herself from adding at the last second. They were having a civilised conversation for once, she didn't want to rock the boat before she managed to get her answers.

"I know."

And suddenly she was angry. "So what? You don't think I'm pretty enough to get a shag?" She snapped. She didn't understand where her angry burst had come from all of a sudden, but it seemed that the thought that Malfoy saw her as unappealing struck a cord.

She knew Malfoy was out of her league! She didn't need anyone to tell her that, but it wasn't as if he was such a great catch. He was handsome and smart yes, but he was also offensive and a ex-death eater. He had faults too, bigger ones than hers! At least she had fought in the war!

"I didn't say that."

"No but you implied it!" She clipped out. "I don't need you to tell me that I'm unattractive to most men, Malfoy, I got enough of that from Ron!"

'He's an idiot."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Don't you talk about him like that!" He may have been an arse to her, but they had been though a lot damn it! Malfoy didn't have the right to judge.

Hearing him sigh she was about to open her mouth to snap at him again when he spoke. "I did not mean it like that, Hermione. He is no man if he implied that you are anything other than beautiful. I do not appreciate you putting words into my mouth."

"You've called me worse things before!" she snapped reflexively before his words caught him with her. Did he just call her beautiful? She frantically thought back, wondering whether she had misheard him. No, he couldn't have…could he?

At that she saw Malfoy clench his jaw tightly, breathing in deeply as if controlling himself before physically forcing himself to relax. Watching him, Hermione realised just how much of a effort he was attempting to put into talking to her. And yet all she was doing was making it more difficult.

Was she being the bad person here? He was helping her after all by answering her questions.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I guess old habits die hard" she shot him a small smile, hoping it would help break the tension. It didn't. Crap, she thought. Way to piss him off Hermione, she thought, especially when she had more questions.

The candy cart broke the tension, Draco shaking his head in refusal while Hermione purchased a few of the flavoured beans. She may not have much of a sweet tooth as Ron and Harry, but she did enjoy sweets in small amounts.

Popping a small candy into her mouth Hermione rapidly thought up a way to get back into her line of questioning. She wanted to know about the mechanics of sex from someone with experience, someone she knew would be blunt no matter the details. While she hated to admit it, she couldn't rely on her books for this.

"Do you want one?" Holding out her candies she saw Draco attempt to hide his surprise. Still, he seemed hesitant. "There really good." Bribery, she rolled her eyes, she had restored to bribing.

"I…thank you…" he murmured, reaching out before pinching a red one.

Smiling, Hermione waited until he had finished the small treat before beginning her next round of questions. She was going to take advantage of his good mood, heaven forbid what he would be like when the train pulled over. "So sex, you've had it, right?" she blurted, figuring blunt would be best.

He stared at her. "Yes."

Hermione nodded, pleased. "Did you court the first witch you were with?"

Malfoy did snort at that. "She was far older than me, a friend of a friend of my fathers, or should I say an associate? It was pleasant."

"Pleasent?"

Malfoy nodded, looking thoughtful. "I did not care for her personally. She was beautiful, but I was aware her intentions were aimed at my father rather than me. She allowed me to fuck her, I did, that was that."

The way he worded it, Hermione couldn't help but gain the impression that he held some regret towards the way he lost his own virginity. It was strange, talking to Malfoy about such private matters, but she figured it helped that they barely knew each other. it was like talking to a stranger, but different. It helped.

Still, she couldn't help but shiver as the word 'fuck' passed his lips. She had no doubt he would be a good lover, she had heard enough rumours which suggested it.

"Do you regret it?" She was hesitant to ask, but knew couldn't help herself, not when he was being as forthcoming as he was. She figured it was a rare occurrence and she was going to make the most of it. What better way to learn about the sexual component in a relationship than by someone who had, if rumours were correct, had a lot of it.

"Yes."

Hermione did wince at that, it making her more relieved and confident in her decision to not follow through with sleeping with Ron. She would hate to regret it afterwards. She had trusted Ron with her life on several occasions, but for some reason her virginity was different.

As harsh as it sounded, she didn't want to settle. Deep down, she felt she would be considering how unhappy she had been with Ron towards the end of their admittedly PG relationship.

"And the others?" She watched him shrug. "So…"

It was awkward. Beyond awkward, and yet at the same time she felt comfortable in his presence. It made her feel curious as to just what was running through his head. She doubted he had prepared himself to be confronted with intimate questions while on the way to Hogwarts.

But from what she had gauged she needed someone with experience, someone who knew what they were doing for her first time. She knew deep down she didn't want it to be with Ron, but why did she keep flinching away from any touch when it seemed to be heading someone intimate?

Was she the problem?

"Did you…" Hermione struggled to find the right words to phrase her sentence, relieved when Draco simply seemed to sit there, letting her gather her thoughts. "I mean…are you glad it was with someone experienced?"

She watched him shrug again, "It was a pleasurable experience. She knew what she was doing, guided me through the basics, taught me how to please a woman. That part was rewarding. The lack of emotional connection, or even familiarity, dampened the overall experience slightly. I regret that I did not put more emotional investment into my first relationship, if you could even refer to it as such, but what is done is done. I cannot go back and change the past."

No, Hermione thought bitterly, you couldn't.

Chewing her bottom lip Hermione really asked herself if she was willing to ask Malfoy for help when it came to a more…physical demonstration regarding intimacy. She was an eager student, that is if she didn't clam up on him or flinch. He didn't seem repulsed by her presence anymore, at least she hadn't seen any signs of his previous distaste for muggleborns.

Would it be asking too much for him?

Did she even want him for all people touching her?

It was strange how the thought of Malfoy touching her didn't seem as repulsive as Ron. Rubbing her wrists she couldn't help but recall how things had been going well until the pressure had started. After that, the butterflies in her stomach had turned to dread at the thought of seeing him.

It wouldn't be just a break, Hermione realised. Even if Ron suddenly had a personality transplant she doubted she would have any desire to enter back into a relationship with him. He had tainted whatever they could have had.

"Ask."

Hermione looked up, eyes wide at his demand. Had her internal debate been so obvious on her face that he had picked up on it without her having to speak?

Looking at her intently she shivered, grey eyes staring at her with an emotion she wasn't used to seeing directed at her. Lust? Desire? Or was she kidding herself? She didn't know, her lower stomach tightening at even the possibility of Malfoy being even a little bit interested in her. He had been open with her questions, questions which had she asked anyone else she wouldn't have been surprised had they told her to mind her own business, and yet she had sat in the compartment discussing her lack of sexual experience and the devirginising of Draco Malfoy without a care in the world.

Figuring even if it blew up in her face it was worth a shot, Hermione took a breath. She only hoped he didn't laugh too much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

 **Draco:**

A virgin.

Draco found it hard to register the fact that the beautiful woman in front of him had yet to be touched. Naturally beautiful, strong, determined, and smart, Hermione was a desirable witch. She had her faults, as did everyone, but still Draco could barely register that Weasley had held her on his arm for months and yet allowed her to get away.

Admittedly he had believed her to be pure in the first few years of Hogwarts, her shy yet stubborn nature coming into play, yet it was impossible for him not to notice her beauty. Even with her frizzy, wild hair she had caught his attention. Her loyalty to her friends had been particularly appealing.

When she had physically struck him…emotionally it had been a rough time, particularly as it forced him to associate the harsh and punishing touch to that of his father. It had not been pleasant, it had in fact taken him weeks before he had managed to put space between them mentally.

Hermione was nothing like his father. That was clear. But the physical amount of abuse Lucius had forced upon him during the entirety of his childhood…the dissociation had taken weeks. His jaw still flinched slightly at the reminder.

No doubt Hermione had been lucky enough to experience a pleasing childhood, one filled with love and nurture instead of harsh punishment and constant demands of perfection. He had frequently heard her refer to her parents with a fondness that he personally couldn't even register. He did not love Lucius, he loved his mother…

Draco paused in his thoughts. His mothers realisation of his betrayal, of his participation in the willing condemning of his father, of his entire life being devoted to supporting the opposite side of the war to his parents, had not gone down well.

It had not been a hard decision. He did not agree with Voldmorts views. He did not want to spend the rest of his life in a world where he frequently saw murder, torture and death, not even if he would be considered one of the most powerful wizards in the world by being so closely associated to the Dark Lord.

He loathed experiencing pain, but what he feared more than the promise of agony was the thought of being responsible for another persons suffering, or god forbid their death. He had killed during the war, it wasn't a secret, but unlike what his fellow students beleived, it had not been easy to take the life from another.

So at the expense of his family, of his mother, heritage, tradition and friends, he had lied, cheated, manipulated and betrayed everyone who was even slightly close to him. Whilst he had no regrets about his decision, he did truly wonder how long he could mentally sustain himself before his thoughts strayed elsewhere.

He was already struggling to come to terms with life following the chaos of the war; during it he had a purpose, a distraction. He did not expect to have survived, he hadn't planned on how to deal with the consequences of living.

"Draco, are you listening to me?"

Staring at the smart witch in front of him the last conversation Draco had expected to encounter was the topic of sex on the way to Hogwarts with Hermione Granger of all people. It was uncomfortable; he did not wish to think of her with other wizards even though he had no claim on her.

"I apologise," he seemed to be saying that a lot lately. "I was…please, do you mind repeating yourself?" His thoughts had been elsewhere but he was relieved for the distraction.

Her huff had his shoulders sagging before he could stop himself. Relieved that she didn't noticed Draco was quick to correct his posture. If Lucius parenting had been good for one thing it was how to appear stoic; though it was hard to say it was worth experiencing his childhood for. "Can you take this a little more seriously please, Malfoy?"

Again he felt his jaw clench, her obvious distaste for him clear. He deserved it, that he was very much aware of, but it was hardly a pleasant experience for your 'crush' - he loathed the term but couldn't think of another which described how he felt - to outwardly display such annoyance. She would never hold a romantic interest in him, not after the years of referring to her blood in such poor distaste, so being in her presence was merely painful.

He deserved the discomfort, the uncomfortable clench of his heart within his chest. Running a hand through his hair he stared at the beautiful witch in front of him, "I am trying."

"Well try harder!" she snapped before seemingly regretting her harsh tone and demanding choice of words. Draco didn't expect anything else. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just frustrated with the situation i've found myself in."

"It's fine."

"You said before…about finding me somewhat attractive, did you mean that?"

 _Did she have to ask?_ Draco thought. He found her to be many things, beautiful was an understatement to his attraction towards the brunette.

"Yes." There was no sense in lying, nothing could, or would, come of it.

The blush that stained her cheeks only further enhanced her natural beauty. From what he saw she wore no makeup, a refreshing change from the girls within Hogwarts, in particularly within his own house. He had frequently walked into his common room or bedding quarters to find naked girls messing around with themselves, or each other at times, expecting him to simply shrug and join in.

Girls who offered sex for freely, so easily, did not appeal to him in the slightest.

"You do?"

Did she really have to ask him twice? With a jerk of his head he nodded sharply. Why did she have to taunt him so? Biting the bottom of her lip Draco forced himself to look away, shutting his eyes in discomfort. In theory discussing the sex life of one Hermione Granger was an arousing one, but in practice it was torture on his emotions.

"Yes."

Was she even aware that he knew exactly what book she was reading, that he had studied Latin in his free time when he disliked the company of others? Whilst the school seemed to be under the impression that he shagged girls in his spare time, they were sorely mistaken. He had never bedded a student, had never felt the need nor desire to, and yet rumours spread which he had felt no need to correct. In theory if they were correct he would have bedded the majority of girls within the higher years of Hogwarts which was a gross overstatement.

He had been correct when he had told Hermione he was no virgin, but he had little experience under his belt in the case of the number of women he had actually bedded.

In his spare time during classes he read; he had found it to be a soothing escape from the reality of real life and the decisions he had forced himself to make.

Hermione didn't childishly giggle, or play with her hair like the stereotypical females within his house. It was clear she was flattered, Draco was a good judge of character and Hermione didn't have the skill necessary to hide the fact that she was pleased with his honest and positive response.

She was beautiful, both inside and out.

* * *

 **Hermione:**

He called her beautiful!

Hermione felt her face heat up in both flattery and embarrassment that Draco Malfoy of all wizards had referred to her as something other than a bookworm, or boring, or average looking at best. After referring to her as a mudblood for the better part of her entire attendance at Hogwarts, it was a shock to her system that all of a sudden he was complimenting her appearance.

Was he lying? Trying to manipulate her into a false sense of security?

Despite it fitting the characteristics that she expected of a Malfoy, the war was over and from what she could think of, or the lack of possibilities coming to mind, she couldn't think of a single reason as to why Malfoy would feel the need to get on her good side. He didn't seem to care much for fame, money and status yes, but popularity and the desire to be liked don't seem to appeal to him on the same level that it appealed to Ron.

If anything, Malfoy seemed to want to be left alone.

Biting her lip Hermione stared at the platinum blonde wizard. She knew he was talented, his school record literally a point or two below her own, and it was hard not to hate the fact that he had clearly been gifted both brains and beauty while she was forced to rely on her intellect in order to be taken seriously and not be judged on her blood status.

Now the war had ended Hermione did hope that the judgements concerning 'unclean' blood would no longer be as extreme as during her childhood. She could hope that the students of Hogwarts had learned from the war that everyone was equal when it came down to life or death; nobody was superior, no matter what they believed or had been brought up to judge.

Trying not to let her thoughts carry her off into another direction Hermione braced herself for what she knew was most likely going to be a polite, but ultimately embarrassing rejection. Malfoy had no reason to say yes to allowing her to touch him, to attempt to experiment in order to discover the reasoning as to why she had shied away so much from Ron whenever he tried to be intimate despite finding the redhead attractive. He wasn't in Malfoy's league, but he was good-looking in her eyes.

She had hoped to marry him one day.

Still, she wouldn't know until she asked. At least if he laughed in her face she would be able to at least try to pretend that she had ben joking. Unfortunately her acting skills could use some work.

Staring at the strong jawline of the handsome wizard in front of her Hermione figured what the hell, this was the only opportunity she would have to be with Malfoy alone. She could always deny that she even brought it up, who would believe Malfoy over her?

"Would you….urm….I was wondering…?" _Uh,_ why was this so much more difficult when she had it worded perfectly in her head? _Malfoy, would you allow me to explore my sexuality on you, please?_ Putting her thoughts into practice however was proving difficult. "Urm…"

"Just ask, Hermione."

"Sex!" Hermione felt her face flare with heat, her hand slapping over her mouth as if she could take back her quite frankly humiliating blurting out of the word sex. It was on her mind ok! She was eighteen years old and yet had barely kissed someone! She had tried, but Ron invading her mouth with his tongue was hardly arousing to her.

Perhaps something was wrong with her?

"I mean…"

Despite Malfoy's raised brow he didn't say a word, simply regarding her with scepticism. She didn't blame him, even she didn't fully understand what she was trying to communicate to him.

"Sex, I mean…I haven't…." _Bloody hell_ , what was wrong with her? "Oh for goodness sake, would you have sex with me if I asked!"

Despite feeling the creeping sensation of rejection, humiliation and embarrassment, Hermione refused to take back her words. The look of pure shock on Malfoy's face, however, was a satisfying sight indeed Hermione thought after realising that for once she had caught Malfoy off guard.

Silence.

The more the silence continued, surprisingly the less awkward Hermione felt. Malfoy's usually stoic features were still in a state of shock that Hermione found it hard not to find it amusing to see the Slytherin so out of sorts.

Hermione had anticipated Malfoy to react in a certain number of ways. She had expected him to laugh at her, to outright say no, to look disgusted or amused, what she hadn't expected was for him to look angry, in fact he looked furious.

"Malfoy?"

Nothing. He didn't respond and to be honest he was starting to worry her. She was fully aware that he was extremely talented in both theological and practical magic, he had trained alongside the Dark Lord and no one was quite sure of the true extent of his magical ability, not even the professors at Hogwarts or Ministry.

But for some reason he had not only been spared by the Ministry but had been requested to return on multiple occurrences. She had her sources but she couldn't understand why. He _should_ be in Azkaban along with his father. For the things he had been accused of doing she couldn't for the life of her come to a conclusion as to why he had been spared so easily.

"Malfoy?"

Hermione watched anxiously as Malfoy seemed to be collecting himself, his previous shock and anger whilst now absent from his features still burned brightly in his eyes. Suddenly she didn't feel so amused or confident about her suggestion. She had heard that boys never turned down the opportunity of freely given sex, she had learnt that the hard way thanks to Ron, and considering Malfoy's reputation she hadn't expected such hesitation from him.

"Is that a no?" she finally mumbled weakly.

Finally Hermione saw Malfoy's shoulders sag, "Why me?"

"What?"

"Why me?" he repeated leaving Hermione feeling as if she was on the edge. This wasn't going the way she had anticipated it to. "You are aware that I find you attractive, by why are you approaching me for this? You do not trust me, you do not enjoy my company, you despise my family, and yet you are willing to share something extremely intimate with me. Why?"

Feeling her mouth go dry Hermione didn't know what to say. Everything he had claimed was true, that she couldn't deny considering she didn't trust him, not at all, and yet here she was asking him to take her virginity as if it was nothing! She couldn't help but find herself snapping on the defensive, "You enjoy sex! The whole of Hogwarts is aware of the fact you fuck around! And I know you're not particularly fussy!"

His jaw clenched, "If that is your option of me, Hermione, than you should not be offering yourself to a wizard who you have such a low impression of."

Hermione felt her hackles rise, "you're a death-eater! I don't think you're in a position to be picky!"

Silence.

As soon as the accusation had fallen from her lips Hermione immediately regretted it. They had been surprisingly civil to each other during the majority of the train ride back to Hogwarts, Malfoy being surprisingly open and polite about private matters which honestly Hermione didn't have any business asking about in the first place. To bring up the fact he was a death-eater, however, Hermione knew was crossing the line. If she didn't know better she would have thought Malfoy looked pretty gutted at her accusation before his features resumed their usual stoic appearance.

"Malfoy-"

"I am a bad person, Hermione," Draco murmured, refusing to look at her. For some reason that comment took the wind out of Hermione's sails, it was different hearing it instead of speaking it. "I am aware of this, I do not need you to point it out to me. You are a beautiful, smart and loyal witch and I am also aware that you are completely out of my league. But I cannot be used purely for my body and not my mind Hermione, I honestly think it would destroy me."

Hermione didn't know what to say as a response. She hadn't expected Malfoy to appear as vulnerable as he had. He had referred to her as beautiful, loyal and smart and out of _his_ league! Did he really believe that? She had to admit she was flattered, her cheeks flushing brightly. For some reason Malfoy seemed even more attractive when he allowed himself to be vulnerable, it was just that unfortunately Hermione had clearly hit a sore spot.

She should have felt elevated to finally find something to break the usually stoic Malfoy, yet instead she just felt like she had humiliated him in a way which had severely crossed the line.

"If you need advice, or are worried a wizard is taking advantage than I will be here for you, you know I having nothing to loose so I will be honest with you, but I cannot allow myself to be intimate with you in that way. I apologise."

"What if I want it to be you?" Hermione found herself saying. "You know what you're doing, you apparently find me attractive-"

"You are not listening, Hermione!" Malfoy finally snapped. "I will not be used for sex! You are incorrect in your assumption that sex is the most important factor in a relationship when you consider the entire male population! I do not fall into that category! Not to mention your reference to me being a…you believe me to be a death-eater and that is your right, but you should not allow yourself to be vulnerable to a wizard you believe to be so dark!"

"I can do what I want, Malfoy!" Hermione found herself snapping back, reusing to allow Malfoy of all people to tell her what she should and shouldn't do. He had a point yes, but it was her body and her choice! It wasn't like he could afford to be picky now the war was over! "You don't own my body!"

She watched as Malfoy's anger seemed to loose steam, his body momentarily collapsing against the seat before he made a move to stand. He looked tired, like he had aged throughout their conversation. "But I own mine. The answer is no, Hermione. I apologise but I cannot help you."

Hermione could honestly say that she had never seen Malfoy display such a vast number of emotions. It put her on edge at the thought that she had ruined any kind of civility that they could have had as head boy and head girl. There was no doubt in her mind as she watched him leave, a hand running through his hair in a gesture that screamed discomfort, that her insult had destroyed any foundation of friendship that they may have developed.


End file.
